


Let Me Forget You

by lestershoweller, phansparent (lestershoweller)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Emetophobia, Existential Crisis, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lestershoweller/pseuds/lestershoweller, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lestershoweller/pseuds/phansparent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if instead of dropping out of uni, Dan had decided to pursue law and forget about Phil and forget about Youtube? It’s been five years but Dan isn’t letting Phil forget him because he's decided to make a return to YouTube.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which Dan makes a surprise return to Phil's life.

It’s strange to lose somebody, not somebody who has died but a person who is still alive and well but inaccessible, a friend who drifted away on purpose or by accident. It’s been five years since Phil lost Dan, and there’s all these facts stuffed in his brain about Dan, his birthday, his favorite cereal, his brand of shampoo, facts that are completely useless to Phil and clog his brain so that sometimes he comes home with a bag of Malteasers because he’s forgotten that Dan’s room is now a storage room. Phil has read that the brain is like a hard drive, that nothing is truly deleted until a new file is saved over it, so Phil tries to fill himself with useless facts: otters hold hands when they drift down river, rhino’s horns are made of keratin. Phil eventually resigns himself to the fact he will never forget Dan, even if he moves out of  ~~their~~  his apartment so he can’t catch Dan’s scent wafting in the air (Phil isn’t sure if he creates the scent himself; it isn’t possible that the smell is still lingering after five years, is it?). 

All Dan had said was that he had to move out. In theory it made sense; Dan hadn’t been getting any of his schoolwork done while living with Phil. Maybe Dan thought that Phil was the problem. If Phil was distracting though it was no fault of his own. He left Dan with his schoolbooks every night, urging him to read for class and write his papers, but after half an hour Phil’s bedroom door would creak open. Dan would collapse on Phil’s bed and grumble about how  _excruciatingly boring_  law was. Sometimes he’d bring in a notebook and bounce video ideas off of Phil and spend the rest of the night filming them, reshooting each shot ten times more than necessary. It was only when Dan was procrastinating from completing his law homework that he stopped procrastinating from making his videos. Dan refused to admit he hated studying law, and Phil couldn’t find the words to tell Dan that he hated law. He wanted to say that Dan should drop out of university and pursue YouTube full time because Dan was deep and hilarious and inspiring on camera, but he didn’t know how to tell Dan that without also saying, “I love you,” so he kept his mouth shut.

He promised he’d be back. He said he’d move back into university halls, and he’d still come over on the weekends, just like he’d done his first year. When Phil thought about it though he realized that Dan had never really been over  _just on the weekends_ , and Dan would never transition to being over  _just on the weekends._  Phil’s texts to Dan went unanswered. Danisnotonfire went a month without a video. Then he went two months. At the three-month mark he uploaded a video explaining he was taking time off to focus on his studies. It was the first time Phil had heard Dan’s voice in three months, and he downloaded the video, playing the audio on repeat, trying to hear something in Dan’s voice to explain what was really happening. The answer never came.

Danisnotonfire never did upload another video, and Dan never came back to their flat. It’s these two facts that Phil uses to refute his theory that Dan  ~~is~~  was too afraid to love him because Phil loves Dan, and Phil could never do this. No fear could drive Phil away from Dan, could allow Phil to choose to wake up without Dan in the next room. He can’t imagine a Dan who loved Phil would give up YouTube. He can’t imagine a Dan as he thought he knew him to give up YouTube, so Phil thinks that maybe he never knew Dan at all. Phil thinks he concocted a Dan who best suited his need for affection and friendship, and some undefined “they” always says that love is blind, and maybe Phil was blind to who Dan is. It seems that way at least because Dan has graduated from university, and he’s working for Clifford Chance, and he’s this spectacular young lawyer. Phil thinks that he must have been a side plot in Dan’s novel about becoming himself. He is the character who was introduced to lift Dan out of his phase of self-loathing and melancholy so that he could reach his full potential. Sometimes Phil feels used by Dan, like their entire friendship was a lie, but if Phil focuses too long on that thought he begins to contemplate the sharpness of the knives in his kitchen drawer so he wills himself away from those thoughts.

Phil has to believe that those thoughts are ridiculous. During that time, Phil and Dan spent their weekends alone together, forgetting the existence of the rest of the world. They played video games and ordered pizza and watched anime. Sometimes they snuggled up to each other but just as friends. Dan would lean his head on to Phil’s shoulder, and they’d giggle a little about how  _domestic_ they had become, and sometimes they’d quickly switch the topic to hot girls to pretend their behavior was  **typical**  of platonic male friends. There were many mornings where they woke up still wrapped up in each other on the sofa, having fallen asleep to the sound of each other’s breaths slowing down.

* * *

One Friday night they decided to acknowledge the existence of other human beings. A classmate of Dan’s threw a party, and they decided to attend. They’d been drunk together before, but there’s something about university parties, with the pumping music, the perspiring walls, and the stench of beer and sweat that inspires reasonable people to take three shots back-to-back and do keg stands.

All night, Phil was captivated by Dan: the way his damp fringe was plastered to his forehead and the way the alcohol made Dan’s normal Winnie-the-Pooh voice even more articulate. Phil welcomed the sound of his beautiful words contemplating whether the universe had intended for humanity to revel in reducing themselves to plastered idiots.

The two had somehow managed to hail a taxi and return to their flat around four in the morning. The quiet darkness of their flat inspired an insatiable urge in Phil, to confess the way he wanted to redefine those cuddles they kept having, to admit that in Phil’s mind those moments were never platonic. Phil wasn’t like Dan though; even a taste of alcohol made Phil feel like his tongue had grown three sizes and his brain forgot how to make sense using words, though it hadn’t forgotten how to use his lips. Two steps inside the flat, Phil crashed his lips into Dan’s, and they tangled together for a length of time that Phil couldn’t have measured even sober because this moment was the most important moment Phil had ever had. Those types of moments are always the quickest and slowest simultaneously. It was long enough for Phil to memorize the sensation of Dan’s lips on top of his and the tingling in every atom of his body, knowing that there was not a person whose kiss could compare.

Phil’s smile the next morning about Dan’s returned kiss turned quickly to a plunging in his stomach. Dan was too insistent about not remembering anything from the night before so Phil knew he remembered everything but was choosing to not acknowledge it. 

Three days later, Dan was gone. He’d gotten his exam results in that time, so in theory (Phil uses the words in theory in his head too often since Dan left) it made sense for Dan to reorient himself toward his studies. Phil can’t help but believe that it was just an excuse. Phil had lifted Dan off the hallway floor and tucked him into bed, fighting away the thoughts that Dan said never left him alone: that his life was off track and going nowhere and that law was a stupid idea that he wasn’t smart enough for. Phil whispered into Dan’s ear about how brilliant and talented he was until Dan’s shivering stopped and eyes closed. Phil’s encouragement skills were not powerful enough to transform Dan’s fears. But maybe all of that was just some exercise in becoming Danisnotonfire that Dan had finally snapped out of it.

The question of whether it was the kiss that really made Dan leave gnaws at Phil, never leaving him alone even after these five years that have passed. He thinks maybe Dan was too afraid to admit to himself that they  ~~are~~  were perfect for each other, or maybe he just never felt the same way about Phil and that was too painful for Dan to say out loud. Phil tries not to ruminate about it; he knows that if he could go back he’d kiss Dan again because even if he still had Dan, he wouldn’t really  _have_ Dan, and Phil thinks that is just as bad.

* * *

Phil used to be Sad but now he’s just sad. Instead of lying in bed, as he’d done for the first few months, he merely finds it harder to smile at himself in the mirror. Even  _real_ smiles don’t feel real, half as wide as they were when Dan was there. He’s different enough that PJ doesn’t send him “check up” texts anymore or throw hot people at him. Phil isn’t sure if it’s because PJ believes he’s happy now or because he finally realized that Phil has moved on as much as he’s ever going to.

And yet today his phone buzzes, and it’s from PJ.

_PJ: Are you okay?_

Phil’s heart beats a little faster, paranoid that PJ is reading his mind and knows that his mind still pours over Dan like a song on a repeat. Phil thinks he’s done a fantastic job at continuing to live. He hangs out with other YouTubers and he visits Bryony and Wirrow once a month. He renewed his radio contract with the BBC for another year, though still unclear of  _why_  people want to hear him talk on the radio. He’d even been on a date with that guy; his name was Andrew, Phil thinks, or maybe it was Alex. Phil’s notoriously bad with remembering names, so it’s strange that he remembers the name of the boy who pushed Dan on the playground and called him gay for the first time. (It was Harrison.)

He’s contemplating how to tell PJ to shove it when his phone buzzes again, an alert for his email. He opens the app, content to ignore PJ for a while longer.

Phil is walking to the kitchen, but now he’s sitting on the floor, willing himself to breathe in for two seconds, breathe out for three. He leans against the wall and bangs his head against it once, harder than he intends because he’s trying to knock himself out of this moment that must be a dream. This shaking in his hands and this pumping of blood in his veins has to be real though, and the new throbbing in his head is definitely real, so it must mean the email is real too.

**From                                           Subject**

YouTube                                      Danisnotonfire just uploaded a video


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil watches Dan’s first video in 5 years, and he’s surprised (and angered) by what he hears.

It’s called Hello Internet Pt. 2, which makes Phil want to throw his phone across the room. PJ has talked to him about  _self-destructive behavior_ , so he resists the urge. 

He decides against watching the video on his phone; the picture is too small for him to overanalyze every crinkle around Dan’s eye or twinge of his lip. He retreats to his bedroom to grab his laptop, but when he opens it up, it’s at 25%, and it’s perfectly reasonable for Phil to believe it may die in the middle of the video, and that would be something Phil could not handle. He uses his desktop instead, but even when he has the tab open, he holds the cursor over the play button unable to press play. He’s hesitant to admit to the churning feeling in his stomach that makes him lurch every time he tries to click play.

He stares at the screencap, the first image he’s seen of Dan in four years. He’d hidden Dan on every social media account about a year after he left, once he realized the sinking feeling in his stomach wasn’t going to go away. He refuses to delete him, even though all of his friends tell him it’s justified; he doesn’t want to give Dan the satisfaction of knowing how much Phil  ~~cares~~  cared about what he did. There is also the other half that is afraid to fully burn the bridge in case Dan wants to come back. He curses the universe for answering his stupid prayer.

It’s almost like it’s not the same person. Dan has his hair cut short, short enough that it doesn’t have the chance to curl at the ends. Phil figures it’s Dan’s solution to the fact that he hates his curly hair but also can’t wear an “emo” haircut into court. He looks different, but it’s hard to pinpoint what is so different. His skin is much paler, and his cheekbones look more prominent, and maybe his nose has grown a bit too.

He calls PJ. PJ barely says hello before Phil is ranting, “I’ve been sitting here for half an hour trying to watch it. I don’t know if I can do it Peej. I’m finally okay, and then he’s back on YouTube. I know I have to watch it, but…”

“Okay, Phil, take a breath. Nothing’s going to happen if you watch a video. It’s fine. I’ll even stay on the line with you,” PJ interrupts.

“You’ve watched it then?” 

PJ coughs. “…Yeah.”

Phil heart jumps. “Why’d you pause?”

PJ sighs. “You know you’re going to watch it eventually, so let’s just save both of us the time you’re going to spend going back and forth about it.”

Phil is silent for a moment, but eventually says, “Fine.”

He presses play.

_Hello internet!_

Phil scoffs, as Dan copies his salute from his first video. “No one who watched his first video is even going to be around to catch the reference!” He shouts. PJ just laughs at how worked up Phil is already.

_So, it’s been awhile. I never meant for it to be this long._

Phil notices Dan’s hand go up to fiddle with his fringe that is no longer there, and his heart hurts because he knows Dan has never been good at admitting he did something wrong.

_I was a stupid 19 year old who still believed that I’d be nothing if I didn’t have a university degree and do something big and important with my life. I was so obsessed with that idea that I didn’t realize how important making videos was to me. Even though, it worked out for me, and I’ve graduated Uni, and I’m actually a lawyer now, and it seems like I’m going to be successful, I just keep feeling like something isn’t right. What I’ve realized is, I regret quitting YouTube, and I’d like to keep it going now even though I’ll be working as a lawyer._

Dan smiles, and Phil knows it’s genuine because his dimple is crater-sized. Phil imagines that if not for Dan’s dimple, his adoration for him never would have reached uncontainable levels. He wishes he didn’t remember Dan looking up at him after the kiss, his swollen lips turned upwards into a smile, and that dimple deep in his cheek. Sometimes it is easier to turn Dan into someone he was lucky to lose.

_Even more than I regret quitting YouTube, I regret quitting on the people who truly cared about me during that time. I blamed them for tempting me away from my schoolwork, but it was my fault. It was my fault I was procrastinating, and it was my fault I was unhappy with myself._

Dan pauses, his eye darting upwards in contemplation. Phil wonders why he hadn’t edited the moment out. Directing his focus back to the camera, Dan begins talking again.

_So, I’m sorry Phil._

Dan continues to waffle on, but Phil isn’t listening anymore. “Fuck him,” Phil roars. “And fuck you too for not telling me that was going to happen.”

“If I had told you, you wouldn’t have watched it,” PJ argues.

“Well, if he thinks he can just apologize via YouTube video, and I’m going to be all ecstatic, he’s mental.”

PJ laughs. “You’ve been wanting this to happen for five years. It’s pretty courageous of him, to be honest.”

“You’ve spent five years calling him a twat, and now you’re defending him?” Phil challenges. “He probably only did it to get sympathy, anyway.”

“Well, are you going to respond?” PJ asks.

“Of course not!” Phil shouts.

PJ laughs again. “Okay.” Phil knows he doesn’t believe him.

Blood pulses in Phil’s neck, and his face is hot. PJ is right; he has wanted an apology from Dan for five years but not in a YouTube video that thousands of people will watch. Dan may have said that “quitting Phil” is a bigger regret than quitting YouTube, but uploading a video before talking to Phil suggests the opposite to Phil.

Predictably, and probably just as Dan wanted it, the fans begin gossiping again about whether they had been dating and broke up. They’re enamored with the idea that Dan and Phil might become a duo again. Phil’s twitter mentions are through the roof, with questions about their relationship and whether they will be filming a video together.

Phil is disgusted with himself for it, but after a week, he types, “Welcome back!” into the comment section of the video. It’s just for the fans, Phil tells himself, but he refreshes his channel every few minutes for the next three days, when Dan finally responds, “Thanks.” And that’s it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, follow me on tumblr @ phansparent. Comments appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil gets an unexpected and unwanted visit from Dan at the flat they both used to call home, and he hates how he’s still melting into a pool on the floor in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated! Sorry that took so long!

The buzz of the front door bell wakes Phil. He checks his phone on the bedside table and realizes it’s 9:00 AM, far too early for the postman, and most of his friends don’t live within a 100 mile radius of Manchester. He fumbles around for his glasses, the bell ringing again as he puts them on. He’s wearing nothing but boxers, so he throws on his dressing gown, for perhaps the second time since his mum had gifted it to him six years ago, and stumbles toward the front door.

The buzz rings through the flat again. “I’m coming!” Phil shouts, adding, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath. The words feel strange in his mouth because he knows they’re not his own, and he shouldn’t still have them burning on his tongue.

He pulls open the door, gasping when he realizes his early morning caller is Dan, who’d never woken up a second before noon the entire time Phil had known him. Phil adds the new data to his list of reasons why it’s obvious that Phil never knew the real Dan.

“Were you asleep?” Dan asks, as if he’s insulted Phil hadn’t been waiting by the door for the unannounced visit.

Dan doesn’t wait for Phil to answer before he’s pushing past him into the apartment he once called home. “You really haven’t changed much have you?” Dan asks upon inspection of the inside, a question that could have been nostalgic, but Phil thinks is an insult.

“What are you doing here?” Phil asks. He’s still holding the door open, attempting to give Dan the message that he’s unwelcome, but it’s not working. Dan sits on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“Well, I was waiting for an invite, but when I didn’t get one, I figured I’d just have to stop by. Peej said you still lived here.”

Phil lets go of the door, and the weight of it pulls it shut with a loud crash, a perfect reaction to this moment. Phil thinks Dan must be completely oblivious to expect Phil to invite Dan back into his life without a question, after he walked out of his life like Phil meant nothing. This anger saves Phil from contemplating the deep betrayal from his actual best friend.

“You’ve talked to PJ?” Phil asks. 

“He shot me a text after I uploaded the video,” Dan responds, and it’s like he’s saying, “He’s a good friend who returned to my side no questions asked,” and Phil wants to rip Dan’s head off for that insinuation.

Phil bites his tongue though and asks, “So what brings you all the way to Manchester?”

Dan’s cheeks flush slightly, so little that Phil isn’t sure if it’s just a reflection from the light outside. 

“You know, just some serious business, lawyer stuff, all confidential of course,” Dan says.

“So I guess you’ve brushed up on your secret keeping skills,” Phil remarks. There had been a time when Phil had known the intimate details of all of Dan’s friends, family, and acquaintances. Phil hadn’t care to know all of these insignificant and invasive facts of people he didn’t even know, but it had always been like Dan couldn’t stand for one thought to cross his brain without Phil knowing it.

“I had to get a therapist so I could tell things to a person legally obligated to keep them secret,” Dan jokes, though Phil wonders if Dan has really gone to see a therapist because it’d been something he’d always hoped Dan would do.

Phil laughs to avoid questioning the comment. The room is silent, and Phil thinks he’s never understood how a silence can be loud, but his ears feel numb from the silence. He and Dan had never been in a room together so silent, even the first time they’d met, only ever haven spoken to each other via Skype.

“You want some coffee?” Phil asks, not because he hopes Dan will stay but because he hopes it will make Dan get up with an excuse as to why he has to make an exit. They can go back to their respective lives as they have for five years because they’ve unlearned how to be a pair, and Phil can’t handle relearning.

But Dan says, “Sure.” He gets up and walks toward the kitchen before Phil has even moved, like he’d never even moved out of this flat. It’s not like Phil should be angry or surprised that Dan remembers where things are; he just hates how Dan can come back and still fit so perfectly into the space.

“I wanted to talk to you about something anyway,” Dan says.

They’ve been sitting in silence for five minutes so Phil doesn’t know why Dan hasn’t managed to bring up this important topic already. All Phil knows is that it makes his stomach turn and the back of his throat taste sour. He gulps, pretending he doesn’t know that the nausea is stemming from the thought that maybe Dan is about to confess his love for him, which he knows isn’t what Dan is about to say, but who can stop the fantasy?

Phil switches on the kettle and sets two coffee mugs on the counter. Once it’s ready he makes a cup for him and Dan. They haven’t spoken again the entire time the kettle was heating. He sets the mug in front of Dan, a plain black mug. When he and Dan had lived together their cupboard was filled with unique and nerdy mugs: a Rubik’s cube mug, a Mario Kart mug, a Hello Kitty mug. When Dan moved out, Phil had put them all into a rubbish bag, tied the end, and smashed the bag against the pavement outside. He’d replaced all of them with bland, single colored mugs. 

Dan pulls the mug up to his mouth and takes a sip. “Well, I certainly didn’t miss the instant coffee.”

Phil wants to toss his full cup of coffee into Dan’s face. He can’t figure out what the point of the sentence was: to criticize his taste or to insinuate he missed him or to say he didn’t really miss anything but especially not the coffee. Dan doesn’t elaborate, and silence fills the air again.

“It tastes better!” Phil croaks because he can’t stand how weird this situation is. He can’t stand being a stranger to the person who once called him the first and only best friend of his life.

“Who could trust your taste? You don’t even like cheese!” Dan yells back, his voice cracking. 

Phil laughs. “Well, my mouth just knew I was lactose intolerant before I did!”

Dan raises an eyebrow at Phil. “You’re lactose intolerant now?” 

Phil nods. “I found out a few months ago. I had to start using lactate free milk in my cereal.” He scrunches his nose in disgust, not yet completely adjusted to the change.

“Oh, you buy your own cereal now, do you?” Dan asks, the corner of his mouth rising up into a smirk. 

“Sod off!” Phil says, smacking Dan lightly on the arm.

For a few moments, it’d almost been like things hadn’t changed at all, but the smack on the arm had caused them both to freeze in place. It’s the first time they’ve touched since Phil had brushed his lips against Dan’s. They re-realize their boundaries, and Phil backs his chair up as far as he can without it being completely obvious how terrified he is to know how easily he can be consumed by Dan. He hates that Dan thinks he can come back and make the same jokes and think that Phil will laugh and fall for it all over again, and Phil hates how much it’s true. How can the sound of Dan’s voice in this kitchen again replace every night Phil spent awake in his bed beating his head against the wall wondering what went wrong? Why does that twist of Dan’s lip send a shiver down Phil’s spine and make his stomach fill with butterflies, and why does it make him forget about the brick he’s had in his stomach for the past five years that makes every meal he eats feel like it’s going to come back up? How did the boy who tweeted him endlessly for months, desperate for a response from his favorite YouTuber become the dominant force in this relationship?

Dan coughs. “Anyway, the reason I’m here…” He trails off.

“Yeah?” Phil asks, all too ready to usher Dan out of his flat.

“I just thought, maybe we could film a collab…” 

Dan’s words are barely audible because he knows it’s completely offensive for him even to be asking Phil this. Phil wants to get up from his chair and stomp his foot on the ground and scream at Dan like he never did. All Dan wants with Phil is to use him to boost his YouTube popularity back up, which in all honestly, is probably what Dan had done from the moment he’d met Phil. That’s why Phil hadn’t replied to Dan until a few months into the tweets. He’d feared it was just some kid who was hoping to start his own channel and wanted a promo, and maybe that’s what it had been. 

But Phil doesn’t scream. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and Dan smiles and thanks him, and it’s good because it accomplishes the task of getting Dan out of the flat. 

But three days and four shots later, Phil texts Dan to get his permanent marker ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PINOF is coming :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil gives into Dan's request to film a video together. Old feelings fly back, but just as they're finally getting somewhere, a new surprise is thrown into the mix.

Phil doesn’t know why he bought the cup of coffee because his hand is shaking too hard for him to drink it, and drinking it is only going to make his hand shake harder. An employee cleaning the table is watching him out of the corner of his eye, perhaps because of the puddles of coffee on the table that will warp the wood if it’s not cleaned up or perhaps she’s worried he’s having a psychotic episode. He should have ordered something that came with a straw. 

“I can’t believe I came all the way to London just to deal with your totally avoidable crisis,” PJ says, placing his drink on the table and sitting down across from Phil. He leans the ankle of his right foot against his left knee, leaning back in his chair and grinning. “Wutchaaaa,” he says, making a whipping motion.

“Oh fuck off,” Phil mutters, quickly bringing a hand up to his mouth and covering it, looking around the Starbucks to make sure he hadn’t sworn in front of any young children in his vicinity.

“How are we just going to film a new Phil is not on fire like nothing ever happened?” Phil spits out.

Peej rolls his eyes so far back in his head that there’s nothing left but white. “You’re the one who agreed to it.”

Phil runs an exasperated hand through his fringe. “I know, but I needed to show him that I don’t care, since he doesn’t seem to give a crap about what he did. 

Shaking his head, PJ releases a deep sigh. “Did you ever think it might be more productive to tell him how you feel instead of playing into his games?”

Phil’s mouth straightens into a thin line, and he stares at PJ. “You’re the one who told him where I live!”

“It’s not my fault you have no self-control,” PJ argues, bringing his cup of coffee to his lips and sipping with a smirk.

If you asked anyone at YouTube about Phil, they’d tell you how he always seems to have it together. He always arrives early to events, and he’s the one who’s texting everyone to make sure they have their tickets booked to Playlist or Vidcon. Even though he’s been on YouTube longer than anyone else he knows, he’s never gotten stars in his eyes for management companies that promise tons of money. He is content to be himself, do what he wants, and never listen to the words of others who try to change him. At YouTube parties, he always turns into the sounding board for other’s problems. Everyone loves to share their secrets with him, to use his shoulder for crying. 

Very few people know what an utter mess he is. He doesn’t know why he can be the case manager for everyone else’s crises. That’s what he was for Dan too when he met him, wasn’t he? He’d been bewitched by the tall boy with the dimple in his cheek and fading lines on his hips that he didn’t want to talk about, wanting nothing more than to take care of him, to drive away the phrases he liked to write on twitter about how worthless he was. Phil likes taking care of people, but before Dan, he’d always been able to take care of himself as well. Sometime during his quest to save Dan, Dan had started to save Phil too, and maybe Phil had gotten too comfortable with having a crutch. It’s comfortable to have somebody there for you, and it’s hard to take two years of elation and use one act of misery to negate it all. Phil thinks Dan leaving is his fault in some ways because he crossed a boundary without asking Dan if it was okay. He took advantage of a vulnerable moment, and he didn’t apologize. But that doesn’t mean that Dan can say, “I’m sorry” in a YouTube video and think it means everything will go back to normal. He has no excuse for why he hasn’t apologized because he swears it isn’t that he’s too afraid bringing up the kiss will drive Dan away again.

Snapping fingers in front of Phil’s face throw him back into reality. “It’s nearly two, Phil,” PJ says, holding his phone up to him. 

“I’m going to die,” Phil says matter-of-factly. He swallows a last gulp of his now cold coffee before standing up and putting on his jacket.

PJ smacks Phil on the arm. “You’re going to be fine. You pretty much don’t have to see him after this ever again.”

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, and he wonders if that’s what he fears.

__

Dan’s flat is in one of the richest parts of London, which doesn’t surprise Phil, not that he believes Dan is stuck-up, but he knows Dan believes in enjoying finer things if you’ve earned them. He also imagines that Dan looked at least fifty flats before he’d settled on this one and spent countless hours online researching flats before he’d chosen those ones to view. Dan had never been one to consider any less than all of the options before making decisions, his mind always set on ruminate. There was just the one hasty decision.

Phil has to wait for the doorman to confirm his acceptance into the building from Dan before he’s allowed to get into the elevator. The doorman swipes a card to ascend the elevator to the top floor of the building where Dan’s flat is. Phil had known Dan was doing well for himself, but he hadn’t realized it was _this_ well.

The elevator opens into a hallway with only one door. The elevator doors start to close again before Phil works up the courage to step out of them, having to reach his hand between them to stop them. He hears his blood pumping through his head, terrified of the elevator dropping back down to the first floor and having to explain to the doorman why he needed him to swipe the card again. The doors stay open though.

Everything is loud. Phil is connected to this moment, and every one of his senses is tuned to everything around him. His footsteps echo against the linoleum floor as he approaches the door. His hand knocking against the door almost drops him to his knees. It’s almost like he’s watching this moment from outside himself, like this moment is playing in a film, and he’s not even sure what’s going to happen next even though he can control it.

The door swings open, and it’s like a portal into 2011. Dan stands before him, black skinny jeans, a thin t-shirt with a cardigan over it, and that damned furry hat on his head. Phil allows the laugh to bubble from his throat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Phil asks. 

“Too much?” Dan asks, pulling the hat off his head. 

“It was too much in 2011,” Phil says, pushing himself past Dan and into his flat. If Dan can make himself too welcome in Phil’s flat, Phil is going to do the same.

Dan gestures toward the sofa, muttering “Jesus Christ,” and walks down the hall to what Phil presumes is Dan’s bedroom. Phil sits down and takes out his phone to play Crossy Road, trying to calm himself down, but his shaky hands leave his jumps out of sync.

“Which do you think?” Dan asks, appearing in the lounge. His chest is bare, but he’s holding two shirts in front of him: one is a white button-up and the other is a black t-shirt with white stars on it.

Phil stares at him, blinking too many times, but at least he has kept his mouth from opening wide like a Looney Toons character. Gone are the days of that scrawny body that Dan referred to as that of a twelve-year-old girl. His shoulders have broadened, and his arms are thicker around the biceps. His chest is more sculpted now, his pecs protruding outwards. He still has just a bit of baby fat on his stomach, creating the love handles that Phil had always loved to poke and tickle, to which Dan would screech and pull away, but the sound of his laugh ringing through the flat told Phil that the pulling away was only a pretense.

“The black,” Phil decides because he doesn’t think he can survive Dan in the white shirt, buttoned tightly around his neck, begging Phil to undo it.

“A’ight,” Dan replies, nodding his head. He tosses the white shirt over the sofa so he can slip the black one over his head. Phil notices Dan reach up to check the fringe that’s no longer there and sees a small sigh escape Dan’s mouth.

Dan laughs. “Some habits die hard,” he says. 

Phil’s eyes are wide as he looks at him, and his heart feels like it’s three sizes bigger than normal in his chest. “Yeah,” he whispers. 

 “You ready?” Dan asks, motioning towards the back of his flat with his thumb.

Phil nods and follows him. There’s a bedroom with a king size bed at his right, but Dan turns left, and they enter what must be the guest bedroom but seems to be more often used as Dan’s office space. The guest bedroom is bigger than Phil’s bedroom, and Phil wonders why Dan needs all of this space. He reconsiders his judgment when he remembers that he still owns a two bedroom flat because he’s still trapped in 2011.

“I already picked out some questions,” Dan says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening a folder of photos with screenshots of tweets.

“It was pretty difficult. They were mostly just the usual ‘kIsS pHiL.’” Dan says, his voice growing deeper and veering off into an uncomfortable giggle at the end.

Phil wants to run out of the room, sensing the heat on his cheeks turning them pink. It’s so typical of Dan, to make a comment like that, never able to let awkward thoughts dissipate. He addresses them in a failed attempt to express his indifference. It’s the first time Phil allows himself to imagine that Dan’s not over their falling out either.

Phil pinches his arm behind his back and grits his teeth, forcing out a laugh. “Alright, you ready for this?”

The room is already set up for recording. Phil is impressed that Dan has adapted so quickly to modern YouTube. He has a tripod and a proper lamp, a much more advanced setup than they’d had six years before: a basic camera balanced atop a stack of textbooks. Phil settles on the floor, as Dan turns on the camera. He sits down next to Phil, a permanent black marker in his hand. 

“People at my firm are going to give me hell for this,” Dan says, uncapping the marker. He motions towards his face with the marker but stops suddenly. “I’ll draw it on you, yeah? Makes more sense.”

Phil shrugs his shoulders, which Dan takes as permission. Dan’s hand lands on Phil’s shoulder as he leans forward towards Phil. Phil closes his eyes, afraid to see Dan’s face so close to his. Maybe it is the worse choice, as they say losing one sense heightens the others. The soft stream of breath from Dan’s mouth warms Phil’s cheeks, and it makes the same sound you hear when someone is about to kiss you. The smell of the marker is like a spark to his brain, reminding him of that first day, both of them so nervous and hoping the other liked him back. But Dan had always made Phil’s heart sing, and Phil never made music for Dan. Those words of Dan’s repeat back to Phil often: “This was the most fun I’ve ever had…”

“Done!” Dan says, removing his hand from Phil, and Phil’s pulse returns to normal pace. 

“Okay, do me now!” Dan shouts.

Phil turns toward the camera, his mouth forming into a fearful frown, before they both laugh. Dan hands Phil the marker. Phil raises a hand towards Dan’s face, and he is relieved Dan has chosen to close his eyes as well, so he doesn’t see Phil’s hand tremble. Phil hoists himself up on his knees because Dan is taller now, and Phil can’t get the right angle. It’s weird to be smaller than Dan, like he took away even more of Phil’s power than Phil had been aware.

Phil’s hand makes crooked lines across Dan’s cheek, but he isn’t looking at Dan’s face. The wide neckline of Dan’s t-shirt reveals thin skin stretched across his collarbone, creating deep pockets that seem perfect to sink teeth into. His legs shake, and without warning he topples over onto Dan. The marker slides across the length of Dan’s face, up his forehead as they both fall towards the floor.

All of Phil’s weight is pressed against Dan’s body below him. Dan’s palms are flat against the floor, searching for the proper place to put them. About thirty seconds into their staring match, Dan decides the proper place is Phil’s stomach. He digs his fingers into Phil’s squishy flesh.

“Don’t you dare, Howell,” Phil manages to say, struggling not to laugh from Dan’s tickling fingers.

Phil’s hands find the space underneath Dan’s arms, meeting the rough tangle of hair that has grown thicker since Phil has last touched Dan there.

“Ahh!” Dan screeches, as Phil begins to tickle him. He kicks his knee, and Phil barely avoids its collision into his crotch. 

“You trying to leave me sterile, Jesus!” Phil shouts.

“I wouldn’t have to kick if you’d get your hands off me,” Dan says, pushing on Phil’s chest so that he’s in control. Phil’s back now leans against the futon, and Dan is kneeled between his legs.

They stop tickling. The only sound is their hurried breaths calming down. Reaching a hand towards Phil’s forehead, Dan brushes away fringe that has fallen into Phil’s eyes. “This hair is a little 2011.”

Phil rubs his hand along the short prickles of hair atop Dan’s head. “I could give you some of it. 

“I miss it,” Dan says, his eyes rolling up to the top left corner of the sockets. Phil wonders if he’s still talking about hair.

“I missed you,” Phil admits, the force of his heart beating seeming to push the words out of him.

Dan opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of a door clanging against its frame breaks his concentration.

“Dan!” A female voice calls.

Dan looks towards the door and scrambles from between Phil’s legs, almost headbutting Phil in the nose. “In the office!” Dan calls.

A blonde woman emerges in the doorway. Phil feels like he’s in a film because she looks just like the type of person you don’t want to see if you’re the protagonist. She has not a hair out of place, and her figure forms a perfect hourglass. She’s the person you see and think _why did I ever think I stood a chance?_

“Phil’s here!” Dan shouts, at an inappropriate volume.

“Thank god! I’ve been hearing about you for ages,” she says with a smile. “I kept telling Dan, ‘If you’re going to talk about this guy all the time you might at least try talking to him again.’”

Dan squints his eyes into thin slits, glaring at her, his cheeks turning a shade of red only seen in boxes of crayons.

Phil sees no possibility of forming a suitable response. This woman who he doesn’t even know is allegedly the reason Dan decided to talk to him again. He doesn’t know her, has no reason to trust her, but he wants to believe her. He wants to believe that Dan missed him and that’s why he came back to YouTube. 

She notices the tense air in the room, so she excuses Phil from responding. Her hand juts out toward Phil, ready to meet his. “I’m Janelle,” she says, as their hands touch. It’s her left hand, and Phil recognizes the feeling of cold metal on his palm before she says it.

“I’m Dan’s fiancée.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!!! 
> 
> phansparent.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has dinner with Dan and Janelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love my dialogue in this but hate everything else woo

“Do you guys want some dinner?” Janelle pops her head into Dan’s office.

Both Dan and Phil have been staring at the computer screen for the past two hours trying to finish the editing on their Phil is not on fire video. Dan had assured Phil that he could go home, but Phil didn’t trust Dan to edit the video on his own, and even more, he did not want to have to come back to Dan’s flat to finish it at another time.

Phil surprises himself with how well he is handling the news that Dan has a fiancée. Besides the unavoidable sinking in his stomach at the sound of the word for the first time, he’d managed to fix his mouth into a smile and congratulate them. An unexpected calm has washed over him because he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. Phil thought that his anxiety was a product of the fear that he would receive confirmation that Dan didn’t want him, but in reality, it was the not knowing creating the anxiety. The uncertainty is much worse than knowing, even if the worst happens. He knows he has no chance now, he knows they will never be more than friends, and that’s better. As much as Phil hates it, he knows that if he’d left Dan’s apartment still thinking there was a chance, he’d keep coming back no matter how much he tried to keep himself away. Dan can disappear to him again now. Phil can reply to his tweets and like his videos, and everyone can believe they’re friends, so no one asks any questions. And maybe Phil can move on.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Dan says, peeking at the clock in the corner of the computer screen that reads eight o’clock. “Didn’t realize how late it was.”

“I can just head out, if you’d rather be alone,” Phil spits out, hurriedly stuffing his phone into his jeans to make a quicker getaway. 

Dan grabs Phil by the arm as Phil rises from his chair. “No, you should stay,” he assures.

Phil denies that he feels the flutter in his stomach with Dan’s hand on him, though he’s thankful that Dan touched him on the bicep and avoided his bare skin. If Dan and his fiancée weren’t both in the room, he’d kick his foot into the wall as punishment for his stupid feelings.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” he says, trying not to catch a glimpse of the huge smile spreading across Dan’s face, but he sees it anyway out of the corner of his eye.

They both follow Janelle out of the room, and she asks as they walk, “Is lasagna okay?”

Before Phil can squeak out an “It’s fine,” Dan takes over. “Phil doesn’t like cheese.”

“Oh! Well I’m sure I can rustle something else up for you,” Janelle says, quickening her pace towards the kitchen. Phil hears her throw open the refrigerator.

“It’s really fine. When it’s like with sauce and noodles and stuff I don’t mind,” Phil argues, hurrying after her.

“Phil, be quiet. I _know_ what you like. Plus, you told me you’re lactose intolerant.”

Dan has his head in the refrigerator now too. Phil leans against the kitchen counter, feeling a blush rising on his cheeks. He doesn’t know how Dan feels so entitled as to speak for him, as if they’re still best friends. At the same time, his heart pounds a little faster against his chest because he’s being so Dan right now. He’s being the Dan who always told the waiters when they put tomatoes on Phil’s burger even when he asked them not to, though Phil protested that it didn’t matter because he could just pull them off.

“And honestly, I don’t want to be in a room with you if you’re going to have gastrointestinal distress,” Dan laughs.

Phil can’t stop himself from smacking Dan on the shoulder. Jerking away quickly, he glances over at Janelle, but she is pulling plates from the cupboard and doesn’t notice. He wonders if she knows what happened between he and Dan, though he can’t imagine that Dan would have proposed marriage to her without her knowing the most intimate details of his life.

“We’ve got some leftover Chinese you’re welcome to,” Dan says, pulling it out of the refrigerator, his face baring no reaction to the smack. 

“That’ll be fine.”

Dan sticks the food in the microwave for a few minutes, while the three of them stand in silence, waiting for it to ding. Once it’s ready, they move towards sitting at the table. Phil hangs back because he has no idea where he’s meant to sit. He always hates the moment of sitting down at a table, especially when with people you don’t really know. It’s always a mental fight of _but what if I sit next to him but he wants to sit next to her_ and _do I sit across or next to the person I know best_ and _what if I sit at the end of the table and I can’t hear any of the conversation._ Dan and Janelle obviously already have their own set seats, across from each other, and Phil decides it’s best to sit at the head of the table, adjacent to both of them.

Phil adds _eating dinner with Dan and his fiancée_ to the list of things he never thought he’d be doing. The meal is far too quiet, the only sound is forks scraping against ceramic, a sound Phil detests. He wants to cover his ears and run out of the apartment, but instead, he breaks the silence. 

“When’s the wedding?”

They give simultaneous and completely different answers.

“Haven’t set a date yet,” Dan answers.

“Next June,” Janelle says.

Dan turns his head towards Janelle. “I thought we were still deciding.”

“Well, I was going to tell you, but that venue I wanted opened up for June, and wouldn’t a June wedding just be magical?” Janelle encourages.

Dan coughs. “I mean, yeah, I just, we didn’t really discuss it.” 

Phil regrets asking the question and peeps over at Dan, raising his eyebrows. Noticing his worried glance, Dan corrects himself. “It’s great though. Yeah, that place is great. It’s great we got it.”

Phil ignores that he knows that Dan repeats the same word over and over when he feels anything but what he’s saying. If Janelle knows the same, she decides to ignore it as well.

“What about you Phil? Any significant other?” Janelle questions, directing her attention away from her lasagna and towards Phil.

“I haven’t been dating much. I think my last date was three months ago.” He wants to bury his head beneath his Lo Mein.

“Oh, just didn’t have a connection with her?” Janelle asks, followed by shoveling a forkful of lasagna into her mouth.

“My friend PJ set us up. I wasn’t really all that interested in going out with _him_ from the beginning.” 

Dan shifts in his seat and becomes amused with the food left on his plate.

“Oh!” Janelle gasps. “I’m sorry. Dan didn’t tell me you were gay.” She says gay more quietly than she says the rest of the sentence.

“I’m not.” Dan eyes go wide as Phil speaks. “I’m bi, so I like guys and girls and some things in between.” Phil spins Lo Mein on his fork, avoiding the eyes of both Janelle and Dan. He is fairly certain that Dan doesn’t want him to talk about his sexuality, but he’s unsure why.

“But like, don’t you like one of them better?” Janelle asks, and Phil has to resist covering his face with his hands. Her tone is so innocent, and Phil has to believe she has no idea how invasive she’s being.

“No, not really. I just like who I like.”

“Wow. Sorry, I’m being rude aren’t I? I’ve just never met someone bisexual.”

Phil widens his eyes and resists the urge to look at Dan, who kicks Phil lightly in the leg. Dan’s hands are shaking, and he is tapping his fingers against his leg.

“It’s fine.”

All three of them forgo talking for the rest of eating, and they eat so quickly they’ll all be feeling the gastrointestinal distress later. The screech of Dan’s chair against the kitchen floor lets Phil know they can get up from the table. 

“Thanks for the dinner,” Dan says, placing a hand on Janelle’s shoulder.

Phil grabs his plate off the table to bring it over to the sink, but Janelle grabs it from him. “You two finish your editing,” she says with a smile. 

They take their places back in front of the computer. Phil realizes it will be suspicious if he closes the door, when they’d left it open before, but he wants answers about the exchange at dinner. He waits until he hears the sound of the television blaring from the lounge before he asks, “So are you straight now or…?”

“Shut up,” Dan says through gritted teeth. “She’s going to hear you.” 

“Dan,” Phil says, grabbing onto the back of Dan’s chair and spinning it so he has to look at him. “Are you really hiding your sexuality from the woman you’re going to marry?”

“You saw what just happened. She wouldn’t understand. She doesn’t understand there can be an in between.”

“Well, couldn’t you try? Don’t you feel like you’re lying to her?”

“Well it’s not like I _don’t_ like women!” Dan struggles to keep his volume low.

“Yeah but you also like it up the butt,” Phil jokes. 

“I literally hate you,” Dan says, but he can’t help chuckling. “I’ve got fingers and a dildo. I’m fine.”

“So what do you do? Sneak off to this room, pretend your editing, and stick a plug up your ass and watch gay porn.”

Dan doesn’t respond.

“Oh God, I do hope you remember to clear your browser history.”

“Why did I invite you into my flat?”

“You couldn’t breathe anymore in here from all the hetero.”

“Literally. Shut up.” But the dimple forms in his cheek regardless of how much he tries to control his smile. Phil pokes it. 

“Remember when we met, and you used to try to cover your dimple up when you smiled?” Phil asks. It took a month of Skype calls with Phil telling him that his dimple was adorable before he let it show.

“You were the first person who didn’t treat it like a flaw of my face. Guys at school used to tell me it was girly.”

“It’s a good thing they didn’t know you watch sports anime.”

Dan rolls his eyes. 

“How does you fiancée think you’re straight again?”

Dan steps on Phil’s foot.

“It’s one of your best features though, you know.”

“Thanks.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil can't figure out what's so hard to him about Dan getting married. He wants to believe he just doesn't think Janelle is right for Dan, but he suspects he's lying to himself. Seeing Dan again complicates matters more...

_We set the date for June 18 so make sure you’re free! And Janelle says make sure you find a date by then ;)_

The text message had been a surprise; he hadn’t received a text message from Dan since they’d filmed PINOF. It’s nine months until the wedding, so he’s not sure why they’re alerting him so early, or why they’re adamant about him coming with a date, but he attempts to shrug it off. Truthfully, he’s wondering who one invites to a wedding when the only person you'd want to bring with you is the one getting married. He pours a glass of red wine and downs it, hating himself for caring about Dan

It’s too early to give an excuse for not coming, so Phil settles for ignoring the text message for a few hours, maybe even a few days. He doesn’t know why they even want him to come to their wedding. He and Dan aren't friends, regardless of whether they filmed one video together. It didn't matter that they'd melded back together like they'd never spent time apart.

Phil pulls his phone from his pocket and calls PJ.

"Hey Phil. What's going on?"

"Dan set the date for his wedding. He invited me," Phil drones, attempting to make it sound like a passing comment, like something he doesn't care about at all, though he realizes it's not helping his case that he begins the phone call with it.

PJ sighs. "You alright with that?"

"I don't know. When he told me he was getting married at first I was relieved because I thought it meant I could just give up. There was no question mark anymore. But then it changed again."

"Why'd it change?"

"She's perfectly nice, but I don't know. It seems like he could have so much more. I mean, he hasn't even told her he's bi. She didn't even understand what bisexuality was. How can he just marry someone and deny his sexuality for the rest of his life?"

"Well that really has nothing to do with you Phil. You two barely know each other anymore."

The statement pains Phil more than he’d like to admit.

"You were the one who made me meet up with him again."

"Yeah because I thought you'd get closure. Not because I thought you'd become obsessed with him again."

Phil feels heat rising to his cheeks. "I'm not obs-"

"You two have been tweeting each other like its 2009 all over again. And you're calling me up sad that he's getting married and trying to convince me his fiancée is bad for him."

They hadn’t been tweeting that much. But all the fans had loved the new Phil is not on fire, and both of them knew they couldn’t disregard each other after all of the amazing feedback they’d received. So, they’d been keeping up with each other’s accounts. Phil used it as an excuse to put Dan back on tweet alerts, and he assumed Dan had done the same because they replied to each other usually within a minute or two, maybe an extra minute if Phil was trying to pretend he didn’t have him on alerts. Maybe they were tweeting each other a little more often than necessary, but he couldn’t resist: teasing Dan about his perpetual black clothing, wishing him good luck in his court cases. A few DMs might have squeezed their way into their daily routine. Phil realizes he was probably lying when he told himself they weren’t friends anymore.

"Well, how could anyone get married to someone if they can't even be honest with them?" Phil asks, and it’s not that out of line. He’d always considered Dan to be an honest person, someone who couldn’t leave anything on his mind for too long without spewing it out, so what was holding him back from revealing his sexuality to his fiancée of all people?

"I don't know Phil. And that's why when you or I get married, we won't do that. But maybe Dan wants it this way."

"I just feel like he's making a mistake."

"Okay Phil, but think about this. What is it that you're advocating for: him telling her about being bi or him breaking up with her because he can't? Because if it's the second, I think this has way more to do with you than with Dan."

There’s no good way to slam down your phone when it’s mobile, so Phil settles for a curt “Whatever,” before ending the call. He knows PJ is right because every time he has envisioned talking to Dan more about why he is hiding his sexuality from Janelle, the vision ends with Dan deciding to end his engagement.

_Why couldn’t Dan have just left YouTube for good?_

* * *

Phil is already in bed when the knock comes at the door. He groans, uninterested in answering it in his pajamas and glasses, but he figures if someone is knocking on the door past eleven in the evening, it’s probably for an important reason. Or it’s an axe murderer, but Phil thinks the former is more likely. Throwing off the duvet, he pulls himself out of bed, setting his book down on the nightstand. A knock rings through the apartment again.

“I”m coming!” he shouts, though he thinks it’s rather rude that this person is so insistent on him answering when they’re the one who is arriving at an inconvenient hour.

“PHIL!” The person calls in response, and Phil has a feeling of deja vu. There had been many a night that Phil had answered the door for Dan when they’d lived together, and just like on those nights, Dan’s tone indicates he’s smashed. His stomach turns over, and he wishes he could pretend he hadn’t heard the door.

When he opens the door, Dan is slumped against the frame. His eyes and cheeks are red. He smiles when he sees Phil, moving through the doorway and wrapping his arms around himl. He rests his head against Phil’s shoulder, and Phil doesn’t know how to respond, eventually settling for giving Dan a few pats on the back.

“What are you doing here, Dan?” Phil asks. “How did you even get here?”

“Took the train. Needed you.”

Phil prys Dan off of him and leads him over towards the sofa, which they both sit on. Phil makes certain to leave a much larger space between them than there had been in the doorway.

“You took the train all the way to Manchester? Drunk?”

Dan pokes Phil on the nose. “Well, I had a few drinks before I got on the train, and then I had a few more on the train.”

“Well, you’re lucky you weren’t arrested,” Phil lectures.

Phil can feel his heart beating in his throat. He doesn’t know why Dan is here, but every romantic movie he’s ever seen tells him that Dan is about to confess that he’s in love with him.

“It’s a good thing I’m a big _fancy_ lawyer so I can defend myself.” Dan says the word lawyer like he hates the word on his tongue. “Though if I wasn’t a damned fucking lawyer I wouldn’t even be here right now,” he mutters.

“What?” Phil asks.

“They’re making me defend some shithead homophobe,” Dan spits, banging his head against the top of the sofa. “He like set fire to this guy’s store, and I have to argue why it’s not a hate crime, but it’s so obviously a fucking hate crime, and it’s bullshit.”

Phil places a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Well, can’t you just tell your boss that you don’t think you can objectively defend him or something.”

“I would except my boss is Janelle’s father, and I can’t really tell him I’m bi when she doesn’t even know. Plus, who knows if I’d even still have a job if he found out.”

Phil feels himself getting hot again. “So, you’re not only marrying someone who you’re afraid to reveal your sexuality to, but you’re going to marry into a homophobic family? What the fuck?”

Dan laughs. “You must be really pissed because you just swore.”

“No, but what are you thinking? You feel like you can’t defend this guy cuz he’s a homophobe, but you’re going to be related to one?”

“Okay, Phil you just don’t understand. You’ve always just been bi, and it’s never phased you. Meanwhile I’ve gone my whole life kind of hoping I’d end up with a girl, so I could pass…”

Phil doesn’t want to know where this conversation is going. “Janelle’s probably worried about where you are. You should text her.”

“Mmmm,” he responds, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Phil watches Dan struggle, deciding to grab the phone from Dan and type the message himself. “It’s better she doesn’t realize you’re trashed, I think.”

“I’m sleepy.”

“There’s no bed in your old room anymore,” Phil explains.

“I can sleep with you, yeah?” Dan asks.

Phil reasons that there isn’t another option. The sofa in the lounge is too small for someone to sleep on, let alone someone as tall as Dan.

“Okay.”

Phil turns away as Dan lifts his shirt over his head, unfazed by Phil’s presence. Phil hears Dan unzip his jeans and let them fall to the floor before he jumps onto Phil’s bed and snuggles under the duvet.

“It’s safe to turn around now,” Dan says, in tone that suggests he’s mocking Phil for not wanting to watch him change.

Phil considers offering Dan some of his pajamas, but he already has his eyes closed and his head buried into a pillow. He climbs into bed next to Dan, something they’ve done many times before, sometimes with both of them in just their boxers. It feels different now. It feels wrong with Dan having a fiancée and she most likely not knowing that Phil once had and (who is Phil kidding) still has feelings for Dan. He pushes those thoughts aside and rests his glasses on the bedside table, squeezing his eyes tight and hoping for easy sleep. Dan’s breaths are heavy, as if he has already fallen asleep, so Phil is surprised to hear him speak again.

“Do you remember the last time we were drunk together?” Dan asks.

Phil stomach flip flops. “Well, we’re not really drunk together now, but yes, I remember.”

“Why’d you have to do go and do that, huh?” Dan slurs.

Phil controls his breathing. He suspects he’s moments away from receiving confirmation that the kiss had destroyed everything between them. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never had a kiss again that felt as good as that,” Dan says.

Before Phil knows what’s happening, Dan is leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his lips. Phil knows he should pull away; he doesn’t want to get involved with kissing a taken man, but he’s been waiting six years to kiss Dan again, and he’d been waiting two years before that to kiss him the first time. He relishes in the warm wetness of Dan’s lips, allowing Dan to deepen the kiss and place a hand on his cheek, rubbing against the corner of Phil’s mouth with his thumb. His lips taste like rum and coke and the peppermint he must have used to disguise the smell of alcohol on his breath. Mostly though, they tasted like Dan, and that is the most dangerous flavour, the one that drives Phil to part Dan’s lips with his tongue and stretch it inside.

After no more than thirty seconds, Dan pulls himself away. “Yup, still just as good.”

Before Phil can think of a way to respond, Dan is snoring softly beside him. The room feels like it’s spinning, but Phil closes his eyes, forces himself not to think for now and drifts into an unsettling sleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil wakes up after Dan and he kissed and it doesn't taste as sweet as it did the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long!!! the next chapter will probably be the last.

Sometimes after doing something you know was wrong, you wake up in a panicked sweat the next morning earlier than any reasonable human being should be awake. You toss and turn, but sleep just won’t come because you can’t stop thinking about how stupid you were or stop designing methods to fix whatever it was. But other times, it’s like that stupid thing you did got shut off for the duration of your sleep, and you wake from your sleep feeling peaceful and rested, ready to take on the day. And then you remember.

The latter is how the next morning goes for Phil. The sun shines through the window and warms his face, and he rolls over to his other side trying to catch a few more moments of slumber. The bed feels warm and comfortable, and his head is clear. But then he hears the soft sound of someone singing outside his bedroom. He peeks open an eye, revealing the crevasse in the mattress next to him where someone had been sleeping. And he remembers. He remembers Dan showing up drunk on his doorstep. He remembers offering Dan his pyjamas and letting Dan slide into bed next to him. And he remembers Dan pushing his lips into Phil’s unsuspecting lips. Suddenly Phil can taste the rum and peppermint again, and he involuntarily gags.

He is not the kind of person to kiss someone else’s fiancé. Sure it had been Dan who initiated the kiss, but Phil deepened it, he reveled in it, he wanted it. And he wants to do it again now.

Phil pushes himself off the bed and makes his way to the kitchen. Spread across the counter is what appears to be all of Phil’s kitchen utensils and breakfast food from the refrigerator. Dan is flipping pancakes on the stovetop, and the kettle is whistling in preparation for coffee. He’s muttering along to the radio, playing a One Direction song Phil can’t exert his brain enough to place. The smile on his face looks like 18 year old Dan did when he used to Skype Phil in the wee hours of the night before they’d even met. He hasn’t seen that look on Dan’s face in a long time.

And it’s like something in Phil finally snaps. He hates that smile, and he hates Dan. It’s like six years of misery over him finally makes sense, and Phil is mad.

“What are you doing?” He asks. It’s solemn, and he knows it’s a dumb question because it’s obvious what Dan is doing, but he figures Dan will understand he doesn’t mean for just the present moment.

Dan lays the spatula down. “Making you breakfast?” The smile has left his face. He understands.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Dan doesn’t answer.

"You can't have it both ways! You don't get to be 'straight' and kiss me when you're drunk. You don't get to ditch me for SIX BLOODY YEARS and then come back like everything's the same. I could handle thinking you just didn't love me back, that I freaked you out by kissing you back then, and so you ran off. It sucked, and it didn't stop hurting for all those years but I could handle it. And I could understand it. But this. You being engaged to a woman, pretending not to be attracted to men, kissing me when you're drunk, and waking up in the morning to cook me breakfast singing like everything's normal? You CHEATED on your fiancé Dan. This is the woman you're supposed to be spending the rest of your life with. You need to grow up. I don't know what your problem is but I can't deal with you. You don't get to break my heart and come back and expect me to participate in this shit. What do you want with me? Did you think I could be your side guy? Did you think I'd want to be that? Because if so you must think really lowly of me. Just get out. I can't look at you. I really hope you break up with Janelle. Homophobe or not she doesn't deserve this shit from you. She doesn't and I don't. So go away. For six more years and another six after that and as many more years as both of us are alive. Because I am done with you. I am done wanting you and missing you and loving you. I'm just fucking pissed it took me so long to see that you aren't worth the pain I put myself through."

Phil doesn’t notice the tears falling from his eyes until he tasted them on his lower lip. He brushes the back of his hand against his cheeks to wipe them away. He hates that Dan is getting to see him cry.

“I’m just going to change back into my clothes, and I’ll be gone,” Dan says.

Phil doesn’t know what to do while he waits, focusing his attention to the mess in the kitchen. The pancake that Dan had been making is smoking. Quickly grabbing the pan, he accidentally touches the burning hot aluminum pan with the side of his palm.

“DAMMIT!” Phil yells, letting the pan drop into the sink with a loud clang.

Dan runs half dressed back into the kitchen. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just go,” Phil asserts as he falls to his knees, clutching the burned hand in his other one, hoping the increased pressure would stop the throbbing.

“No it’s not. Did you burn yourself?” Dan asks, crouching behind Phil and looking over his shoulder. He sees the bright red splotchy signs of a burn.

“I said go!” Phil shouts, flinging his hand back and beating it into Dan’s chest. He quickly pulls the hand back and puts pressure on it again with a wince.

“I will, I promise. Just please put your hand under cold water for like 10 or 15 minutes. It will help. Wait, I’ll get you a bowl of water. Just go over to the sofa.”

Phil reluctantly stands up and moves over to the sofa, as Dan opens a cupboard and searches for a bowl. He finds ones and fills it with cool water. Dan carries the bowl over to Phil and hands it to him before rushing back out of the room to the bathroom. There’s a sound of rustling, and Dan returns with antibiotic cream and a large bandage.

“Ok, so after you finish soaking it, put the cream on and the bandage.”

“Thanks,” Phil grumbles.

“Okay. I’m leaving,” Dan says. He pats his pockets to make sure he has everything before exiting the front door.

Phil feels the tears prickling at his eyes again. It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t understand how Dan can be so caring sometimes, but then be such an arse. Even after this moment of caring, he still left without even saying he was…

The door creaks back open, and Dan peeks his head in. “For what it’s worth, which I guess is pretty little right now, I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m really sorry I did. I was a complete asshole. And this is no excuse, but I really didn’t think you cared that much. How could I have ever thought that Amazingphil felt anything near as much for me as I felt for him? I’m so sorry.”

He closed the door and left again.

**Author's Note:**

> Also available on tumblr. Follow me @ phansparent.tumblr.com


End file.
